The Boy you Knew
by Redspectacle
Summary: Matthew Sullivan was mentally retarded when he was taken in 1980. He returns with an abundance of intelligence and a chance at a normal life--but he finds no purpose for his otherwise average and normal abilities.
1. Default Chapter

The Boy You Knew

I

MATTHEW SULLIVAN

VANISHED: FEBRUARY 24TH, 1980

Matthew eased his head back against the wall and heaved a sigh. His mind was racing with wonderful things that had fallen into place; the theory of relativity, biology and genetics, calculus and trigonometry, advanced literature and Shakespearean plays all molded into the genius that was his brain. The thought of it made him smile, and he found himself actually looking forward to his monthly check-up in Seattle. He had never gotten to go into the big city much otherwise, even though he wasn't too far from it in the little town of Renton. He figured that his parents must have been something like the gypsies he read about, because in a period of four years, he found himself a resident of Wenatchee, Spokane, Yakima, Bellingham, and Vancouver, too. He hadn't really known it before he was taken, of course. The knowledge had come into his brain after he had been returned.

"Matthew Sullivan?" a singsong voice asked. He arose and nodded slightly, and she ushered him quickly into the room.

"Matthew Sullivan. That's right, I remember that handsome face. Have you been experiencing any head aches? Any unusual thoughts, abilities...?"

He couldn't help but find the interrogation a little humorous; everything about him was some kind of miracle, some kind of unusual process that had occurred. He couldn't really remember how he had acted before being taken, but he remembered not having the ability to communicate. He remembered knowing faces, but he didn't know what their relations were to him. Upon his return, it seemed the fact that he had been born severely retarded had melted away, and the doctors of Homeland Security thought that it was some kind of miracle. They hadn't given credit to his captors, though--they shook the report of his suddenly non-existent retardation as nothing considerable, especially since reports were beginning to escalate of other 4400 who could heal people and animals, and of people with such incredible strength that they should cause people's skulls to literally fracture and break.

By comparison, Matthew's abilities were miniscule and much more tame. It was one of the reasons he had not been so subjected to questions by reporters who were expecting something big and miraculous from him. It was almost as if they wanted him to have telepathic abilities to boot.

"No. No unusual thoughts, abilities, circumstances at all. I'm feeling fine, really...can I go now? Foster mom's waiting for me in the car."

"You'll have to hang on for a little bit, Mr. Sullivan. We told you when you came back that we couldn't locate your parents. Apparently, they moved out to Alabama. They died together in a car accident five years ago."  
"I almost expected as much. I figured that if they knew I had lived, they would have come for me."

"But we have located your twin brother. James Sullivan is living here in Seattle now, he's married to his first wife, Rebecca, and they have two daughters. Your brother is forty-one-years-old, Matthew. You vanished in 1980, didn't you?"

Matthew lowered his gaze to his torn-up sneakers and his ratty KISS t-shirt. James had gotten that shirt for him earlier in the year, before he was taken, after he went off to a KISS concert--it was funny that at the time, Matthew had never been aware of that T-shirt or where it had come from. He hadn't known his own name, his age, or even what state he lived in--yet upon his return at Mount Rainier, it seemed that a mass of intelligence and knowledge just suddenly accumulated, and he remembered all of the goings-on of the special help programs that he had been enrolled in. It had been a futile effort, but no one could imagine that someone in such a dire shape could suddenly return to Earth with more-than-average potential and intelligence, almost as if he had left the planet in the very same condition. He looked up to the doctor and heaved a sigh.

"You found my twin? Hasn't he known about me? When is he coming? Do my foster parents know that he's coming?"

"We told your foster parents and they've agreed to hand over custody to your brother and his wife. Though legally, you don't need a guardian at all. You turn eighteen...or, well, forty-two, technically, next week. After that, you're on your own! All grown up. And it sounds like you have a very promising life ahead of you, Mr. Sullivan. Your intelligence quotient is well over one-hundred-thirty. Harvard is willing to give you a full-ride into the career of your choice, aren't they?"

"Yeah...yeah, they are. I've got quite the future ahead of me, but I never even gave it any thought--I didn't even know it existed--until three or four months ago. Did you say when my brother is coming to get me?"

"Well, I think he's just in the other room, signing a few papers. Hang on, let me go out into the hall to get him."

Matthew turned in his chair and watched as Dr. Morgan sashayed out of the room, her curvaceous form vanishing behind the closed door, though she left it just cracked. A quiet conversation ensued, obviously as hushed as possible because the adults feared that it would somehow upset him to hear the horrible truth. Matthew could just see it in his head: "I'm sorry, James, but it appears that your brother is one of the 4400 freaks who has suddenly returned after being missing in action for twenty-four years. Twenty-four years that he has no recollection of existing in."

"James, your little brother wants to see you."

Matthew winced at the mentioning of being 'the little brother.' He had been born nearly half an hour before James, yet he had been the only of the brothers to have severe mental problems. James had been diagnosed with mild autism as a boy, but it seemed he had outgrown it by the time the two were teenagers, or so it had seemed. Yet by all means, Matthew Sullivan had been intended by God's hand himself to spend his days in a stupor, unable to distinguish reality from the imaginary worlds he cultivated in his damaged mind, unable to develop intimate relationships with family and friends as a result of the fact that he hardly even knew their names. Language, before being taken, had been nothing but grunts, groans, and mimics of people who had spoken just a few seconds before. Matthew's fragile mind had been unable to take note of knowledge, and so he had been a virtual vegetable for the first seventeen years of his life, having no bearing whatsoever on society. He had been an overlooked burden for the family, a shame and a regret for his parents, who, much to his sadness, sometimes spoke of how accidental Matthew's birth was to his very face.

"You think God wouldn't be so cruel," his mother had remarked to his father one morning. "You think he wouldn't make people like this."

"Well...we see how he's suffering, May. Maybe the Lord will have mercy and take him home."

Matthew wasn't sure if it had been the 'Lord' who took him home, but somebody took him to a unique place in the stars to live for twenty-four years. He was shaken from his thoughts, however, when a rather cumbersome, large man with big brown eyes stepped into the room and managed a huff.

"That's him. That's Matt!"

"...It's me. Hey, little brother."

Matthew had hardly stuck his hand out for a shake when James recoiled in horror, his eyes wide, his hands at his chest. He violently shook his head and turned to Dr. Morgan.

"That ain't my brother. I don't know what they've done to him, but that ain't my brother."

"James Sullivan! Please settle down and let us explain. We've been receiving reports on many of the 4400 having certain abilities. Some people have remarkable regenerative abilities, others have a sixth sense, others can levitate, and still furthermore others have strange abilities to manipulate what happens on the television. Some people can teleport objects, people, things...others can travel through time. Your brother was perhaps given the most incredible gift of all: the chance at a normal life."

"My brother ain't one of THOSE freaks. When you people called me, I was expectin' my forty-one-year-old brother sitting in a wheelchair, shaking and mumbling. You people didn't tell me nothing about him being one of the 4400 freaks, and you people sure as Hell didn't tell me nothin' about him suddenly not being retarded anymore. I don't want one of them freaks living in my house."

"Mr. Sullivan, he is your BROTHER. Just a little different, of course."

"I don't care who or what he is. He's not the boy I knew. God damn devil worshipper or something, is what he is. I don't want no freakish alien nuts circling my house. Don't call me and sure as Hell don't force them papers on me. He ain't my brother."

In a brisk movement he slipped out into the hall again, his heavy work-boots echoing all the way down the hall. Matthew stood and hurried out into the hall after him, watching as the heavy form of his brother slipped further and further away.

"James!" he cried. "...James!"

A door opened and shut, and Matthew found himself separated from his twin again for the second time in twenty-four years. He sank to the floor and clutched his head, tears pouring down his cheeks, and for once in his life, he knew he had been given a present that had unfortunate consequences. Delicate intelligence had been garnered with the knowledge of what it felt like to be hurt.

And it felt like he had just been stabbed.


	2. Realizations

The Boy You Knew

II

Matthew drummed his fingers impatiently against the kitchen table as Ellen Hemmings came into the dining room, placing a cup of tea before him. He flashed her worn, aging face a small smile before he quickly faded back into his thoughts. His foster family had done everything to try and make him comfortable; in less than a week, though, he would be walking the streets on his own with no place to go. He had received many offers to have a full-ride education at several colleges interested in the ACT's he had recently taken, but he found himself more eager to find out where he had been. More than anything, he wanted to be in his brother's household, to accommodate himself with the family he had never met. Nieces. A sister-in-law. An entire family had been made that he had never known about until a few months ago.

"Ellen?" he asked, slowly rising from his chair. "In a week, I'm going to be on my own. What am I supposed to do?"

"Matthew, Roger and I have told you. You're free to stay here as long as you need. All's we want to do is he—"

"...You can't help me. It's not your responsibility after the week is gone. My brother should be here for me."

"Honey, he's..."

"He doesn't believe it's me. Did you hear about how he talked to Dr. Morgan? He signed all the papers and he wanted to talk to me. You and Dr. Morgan made plans to ship me off to him, and you didn't even tell me about it!"

"Sweetie, Roger and I just thought it was best, considering..."

"Considering what? That I'm an alien freak? Because for twenty-four years of my life, I have been gone? And all of a sudden I magically return with knowledge and the ability to be a normal person? I'm normal. Normal...

"People are making a big fuss about me being one of the 4400, because I'm one of the only ones to come back normal. Other people have strange abilities. Not me. I'm normal...normal. You know, my parents talked about me a lot, sometimes right in front of me. How were they to know that I would someday be aware of the things that they said? I was a vegetable. I couldn't really move...couldn't think. I could see and hear things, but I didn't know what they meant. I didn't know that my parents were upset during my brother's senior year of high school. They didn't have much money, and they couldn't spend it on his college because they were too busy spending it on me, sending me to the doctor's for evaluations and tests, and paying for medications to keep me docile. I've still got to get enrolled into High School..."

"Well, at least it will be your last year. Aren't you excited about that? Next year, you'll have your full ride to...well, almost any school you want. Besides, few other boys your age have this opportunity."

"Few other boys appear to be seventeen-years-old, but are truly forty-one. Can you explain any of this to me, Ellen? The media is buzzing about all of these...crazy little things. They buzzed about me for a while. And now all of a sudden, our cars are getting egged, this house, we're getting death threats in the mail..."

"Homeland Security is taking care of everything. If there is a legitimate threat regarding our family, then they will let us know...and get all of us to a safe place. Besides, Mr. Baldwin is coming today to talk to you about that."

Matthew folded his arms about his chest and snorted. He knew that Tom Baldwin worked for Homeland Security, and that his son had been left in a vegetative state after a night of drinking out on the beach. While he knew that Mr. Baldwin would try to be sympathetic and calm during any interrogations, he also knew that the man was quick to anger if he didn't hear what he wanted to hear.

"When is he coming?"

"Any minute."

It wasn't more than a few minutes later when Mr. Baldwin, tall and slender, emerged from his sports car and jovially made his way to the front door, ringing the doorbell twice before he gave a soft knock. Ellen hurried and opened the door, ushering him inside to see the sullen boy sitting at the kitchen table, playing with the soup he was supposed to be eating.

"Hey, Matt. How are you doing?"

"Good."

"I came here to do a little check-up on you. Dr. Morgan said that you had a rough visit in her office the other day."

"Yeah. I did."

"We got a hold of your brother, and it seems like he's regained his senses. He's willing to take responsibility for you. He lives here in Seattle, so you won't be very far from Ellen and Roger."

"He wants me to leave now?" Matt stood and shook his head. "He's given up his little 'freak' angle?"

"You're not a freak at all, Matthew. You're just your average, normal, run-of-the-mill kid. And I think that he realizes it. A week from now, he'll be picking you up here...early morning, so have your bags packed. Thanks for letting me home, Mrs. Hemmings."

"You're very welcome. Do you want some tea, or something to eat?"

"No, have to get going, actually. Some other 4400 that I need to deal with."

"Thank-you for coming. Good-bye, Mr. Baldwin."

As soon as the door closed, Matthew lifted his bowl from the table and slammed it to the floor, allowing a blanket of tomato soup to cover the kitchen tiles. He leaned against the counter and wept as Ellen hurried to his side, trying to grasp his shoulder, trying to ask him what was wrong.

But nobody could understand. Nobody could understand what it was like to be one of the 4400, to be one of the elite human beings who was supposed to change the world around, was supposed to be sucking up to the media about his superior skills and advantages over everyone. No, Matthew Sullivan was forced to lead a different walk from ordinary people, was forced to walk a different walk from the other 4400. He was a normal person; a normal person who happened to be a returnee. Other people treated him like he was a 4400; the 4400 treated him like he was just 'another person.' There was no distinction...he was part of two unique groups.

A freak and an ordinary, pathetic human being.


End file.
